The Lonely Hearts 06 The Grunt 2 (14 page)

A man passing by as Courtney shouted into the phone shook his head.  Stunned, she tried to bring it down a notch. 
Was she talking loud?
 
Was she making a fool out of herself?
  She was so angry until she hadn’t noticed.

Sharon didn’t like the confidence that Courtney was exhibiting.  She was expecting something else – something more pliable. So she did the only thing she could do, she stabbed at a point that was fact. Much calmer, she flipped her hair back and curled her lips.  “No matter what you do, he’ll never be your son.”

Courtney smiled.  This woman was not about to steal her joy, hard as she might try.  “That’s where you’re wrong, Sharon.  No matter what you do, he’ll never stop being my son. He knows that I love him.  He can feel it, and you can’t take that away.”  She cleared her throat.  “We’re done here.  Don’t dare show up on my doorstep, or it’ll be the last door you ever knock on.”

Sharon perked up.  “Is that a threat?”

“No, it is not,” Courtney stilled her shaking hands.  “That’s a promise.  And Sharon, I always stand by my promise.”  Hanging up the phone, she slipped it back in her purse.

Looking around to see who had seen the argument, she was relieved that no one was gawking at her or even concerned by her existence.  As far as she was concerned, that was a good thing at the moment. 

***

Even though she’d never admit it, Sharon Riley was fit to be tied. 
To think that that woman had the nerve to tell her off. 
She looked down at her cell phone in shock and then slid it on to the table. She hadn’t been talked to like that since she had become a minister’s wife.  Of course, she wouldn’t tell her husband everything that was said by Courtney - just the juicy parts- otherwise, she’d be made to look a fool by that second-class citizen.

Heart still racing, she glanced over at her husband, sitting across from her in his chair reading the Bible in preparation for Sunday’s sermon and tapped her long manicured nails against the table. She knew he had been listening the whole time, at least to her side of the conversation.  So he had to be expecting some sort of reply.  “Well, I was just threatened.” Her voice resembled more of a
tattle
than a report.

Licking his fingers and flipping the page, he uncrossed his long legs. “How so?” Reverend William asked dryly.

Not the response she expected.
Where was the damned urgency?

“Courtney Black says that if
we
show up to her door before a court date, it will be the last door that we ever see.  I think she meant that she’d kill me. That’s a reportable offense.”  She paused for a minute to let that sink in to the good reverend’s head before proceeding with her call-to-action.  “We should file charges with the authorities immediately.  I do believe that I fear for my life.”

The reverend, a man of great contempt for black people dating back to the civil rights movement but not one who was foreign to the judicial system because of his own run-ins when he was more friendly with the local Klan, begged to differ.  He knew beforehand that his reply would ensue an argument, but after 35 years of marriage to an only child, what more could he expect? “I know that you’re not going to like this, so let me go on and preface by statement by getting this out of the way.”  He huffed and scratched the side of his mouth with his finger.  “You called her.  She didn’t call you. Plus, you threatened to take away Cameron.  No police officer in the world could do a thing about what she said to you.  She has the right to tell you not to come on to her property.  She has the right to tell you what will happen if you do, and you’d better listen, because if anyone else was witness to that exchange, they’ll testify on her behalf.” 

Sharon was not pleased at all. She gripped the arm of the chair and glared at her husband as though her evil stare my change the very laws of government.  “There is nothing that can be done?” Grit and growl filled her voice. “This woman threatened my life for wanting to see my grandson, and you’re telling me that there is nothing at all that can be done?”

He huffed.

William knew his wife.  She was the world’s biggest instigator, which was great during church fundraisers and tea party political campaigns, but not so great in day-to-day life.  “If there were anything to be done about it,
as your husband,
I’d be the first to tell you.”  He closed his Bible with a thud.  There was no point in expecting to finish his sermon anytime soon with this brouhaha. “I told you to stop calling them. I told you to just let the lawyers handle things,
but no
, you wanted to rub it in.”  He shrugged his bony wide shoulders.  “Well, now it’s rubbed.” He raised a brow. “You have to be more strategic in your thinking instead of letting emotions get in the way, Sharon.” 
The Good Lord knew that it had kept him out of jail throughout his life.

Accusatorily, she pointed across the room as though Courtney was present. “They are keeping us away from our only grandchild,” she said with the intention of firing up his fragile sensibilities.  “Your grandson is being raised with those people.”  She blinked slowly and watched his eyes as they averted to her – right where she wanted them.  “He’s the only one that we have now that Amy is dead, and Jimmy, bless his soul, left us as a baby.  Cameron is our only legacy.  If we lose him, then all of this will be for nothing, because I’m far too old to try again.”  She tugged at his heart strings as she began to cry.  “Don’t you care about that at all?”

“You think that I don’t know that my only living child is now dead?  You think that I don’t remember burying Jimmy, my only son, because of crib death?”  He eyed her sternly as if to say that she had gone too far.  He sat up in his chair. “If I were a young stupid man, then I might have grabbed a shotgun and headed to Jacksonville after she threatened you, but age gives you wisdom,
if you’re lucky
.  And wisdom dictates we handle things better than a couple of bumbling teenagers who got hold of a phone while their parents were away.”

She ducked her head and wiped a tear.  “I feel like I’m in this all alone.  I was finally given hope the day that Leo showed up on our doorstep. I don’t want to lose it again.  I don’t want another circumstance to keep us from our family.”

“No one is losing hope. I’m simply asking that you not allow your emotions to mess things up for us.”  Sympathy crept into his tone.  “Sharon, we will get him,” he assured, putting his hand on her leg.  “Harold Murphy is one the best lawyers in all of North Carolina, in my opinion.  Thank God, he’s also a member of our church.  He’s already told us what to do.  We need to follow his direction.”

“I’m trying.  It’s just,” she wiped her tears and sniffled. “That woman is so wretched.” More than anything, she wanted her husband to hate Courtney as much as she did, but evidently that pursuit would have to take time. 

“Harold is a fine man.  Make sure that you tell him what the incomparable
Mrs. Black
said to you today.  That should go over real nice at the hearing, telling a preacher’s wife that kind of foolishness.”

Sharon nodded her head emphatically. “Oh, I won’t forget.  I’m going to make her eat her words.” Suddenly, she was starting to feel upbeat again.

Her sudden voice pitch made William relax a little more.  “Trust me, Sharon.  This is going to be a short fight.  Cameron will be with us in no time.  Marines don’t make much money, and I’m pretty sure he’s run through all of that insurance money he got spoiling his new wife.”

“Just the thought makes me sick.  I’m just glad that Leo came forward.  As complicated as their story is, the point is that he and Amy loved each other dearly, and he’s determined to be a good father to their son.”

William held his reservations on that subject. There was no point in knocking the wind out of Sharon’s sails further. 

Chapter 13

"
Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.” 

Matthew 7:15 (NIV)

Contrary to Sharon Riley’s belief, Leo Tabor was anything but a good man. God had blessed him with amazingly good looks.  His family had blessed him with a good strong name. He was also good at covering his ass; good at making women believe that he was dependable; good at sex and even better
at leaving after sex
.  But in the truest sense of being a
good
man, Leo Tabor fell ridiculously short of the definition.  Always had.  Always would…and he didn’t’ give a damn.   

What he did give a damn about was money.  Pure, green, in-his-hands money. And he had a plan to get all of it.  It was just a damn shame that he had pull a young, innocent boy into the middle of it, but in this life, a man was bound to regret his actions one way or another.  So why pass up an opportunity to be regretfully wealthy? 

Sitting at the dimly lit bar in the back of The Hellhound, a local Wilmington strip club with notoriously high-end clientele, Leo watched from across the room as a petite topless blonde in a purple glitter G-string with extremely large augmented breasts gave an older male patron a vigorous lap dance to the song, “
Pipe It Up.” 

Strange choice of music to Leo, but it wasn’t his dance or his money.  
   

Pulling his intense gaze away from her momentarily, he tapped his empty glass and motioned for the young bartender, who was engulfed in the sports recaps, only a few feet away.  “Another whiskey sour,” he said, eyes locked on her naturally large breasts pushed up in a low-cut V-neck shirt tied in a knot just above her belly button. 
That sight wet his appetite. 

“Sure thing,” she said, taking her eyes off the television.  Prancing over to him, she made sure to bend forward for more ice so that he could get a better look at her assets.   

He noticed.
  Leo had a knack for noticing everything about women – their strengths, their weaknesses and most of all their insecurities, because the insecurities were what he used to get what he wanted. 
And he always got what he wanted.

“Hell of a hot day outside, huh?” she said, making small talk. 

Leo shrugged.  “I’ve been in hotter.”

“Middle East?” she asked, drawing him in with her big brown eyes. 

Leo left something to mystery. It was part of his illusive charm. Flatly, he replied, “Military life takes you to a lot of places.”  He knew the drill.  Women always wanted to find out what a man did within five minutes of meeting him, whether they were CEOs or bar flies. It was part of their genetic makeup to identify the alphas, the money makers, the heroes, especially in these parts.  So, he gave them just enough to want more.

“What branch?” she asked, more intrigued.

His brow lifted as though hadn’t expected that to be her next question. “Navy.”

“Really?” she said, voice pitched high.  Her eyes were bright with new ambition.

He knew the second question too. 

“Enlisted man or officer?” she paused.

“Officer.”  He bit his wide set bottom lip.  “That’s all past me now.”   Putting both elbows on the bar, so that she could better inspect his large muscular arms in his polo, he twirled his straw in his empty glass, clanking it against the ice.  “You gonna hook me up, or what?”  His words were intentionally suggestive.  “Just because you’re beautiful, doesn’t mean you get to make me wait all day.”

The bartender read between the lines enough to make her swallow hard.  Moving her long bangs from her face, she blushed. “Coming right up.”

Turning his head back toward the dancer, he narrowed his gaze, wondering if the stripper was enjoying the extensive dry hump she was giving the old bastard. If not, she pretended damn well.  Rubbing her small hands over her nipples, the dancer pushed back on the crotch of the old man’s khakis until he grabbed her by the waist and adjusted her.

Leo snickered. 
Couldn’t last one dance. Pathetic.  He deserves to pay for it.   

The bartender quickly refilled Leo’s glass and followed his glance across the room to the dancer.  A smile crept across her glossed lips. “She’s working real hard over there on that guy, huh?” she said, wiping the water marks from the bar in front of him.  She angled her breasts so that they would be in full view when he turned around; reminding him of what he was missing. 

Leo took a sip of his drink. Not to strong, not too weak…just right. He nodded in approval.   “That is a bonafide, professional dry fuck, my dear.” He stretched his arms out and cracked his neck. “But I’m sure he’ll give her one hell of a tip for it.”

Flipping her long brown ponytail off her shoulder, she frowned.  “And that doesn’t bother you?” Considering the preppy clothes and the classic good looks, she figured him to be a gentleman. 

He was anything but. “I’m not her daddy,” Leo quipped. 

Her head tilted in confusion.  “But you
are
her boyfriend,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.  “At least, that’s what
she
says.”

Leo knew what she was getting at. Demeaning the stripper allowed the bartender to be elevated.  The female persuasion had been playing this game since they were competing in the sand box as babies.  But he wouldn’t let her elevate herself too quickly above the working girl across the room. “Women have to eat, just like men.  What she does is just a job.  It’s not who she is as a person.”

The stripper’s phony giggle echoed across the room as the old man grunted in enjoyment.

The bartender had a dumbfounded look on her face.  “You really believe that bullshit or do you just say it to keep from feeling like shit when she’s 20 feet away from you making some old fart cum in his pants?”  She thought she had him dead to rights. 

Leo had to admit, he liked her sassiness, even though it was misplaced considering she worked here too. But he was certain that under her bimbo-exterior there was a woman with a brain, and that was dangerous.  He glanced at her name tag for a long minute and the rigid nipple a few inches under it. She was mad for the moment, but still incredibly turned on by him. He bet if he reached over and pinched that angry little nipple, she wouldn’t even slap him. 
Tempting.
  “Daisy, you’re young, but you’re not slow.  If you want to say something, just say it.  Don’t mince words with me. You have no reason to. I’m just a guy at your bar…”

“You could do better,” she blurted out, cutting him off. There, she had finally said it.  Amber Valentine was a bleached-blonde, big boobed, dumb slut. 

“I can do better than Amber?” Leo repeated as though he felt he couldn’t.   With a wicked grin, he leaned closer. “Because she’s a stripper?” he whispered condescendingly. 

“No, there are a couple of good women in here that happen to be strippers.  Because Amber is a bad person,” Daisy emphasized, furrowing her brow. 

Leo calculated in the young woman’s facial expression, terse with emotion, she knew more about Amber than she was willing to say on their first meeting.  But she was young and vulnerable and Amber Valentine…well, she was a viper, just like him. Still, the thing that made him good at what he did was that no one knew he was a viper until they had already been bitten. 

He ran his finger over the bar gently as though he was running them over the smooth curves of her voluptuous young frame.  My, how he loved young meat.  The only problem with it was that they were full of piss and vinegar. “Amber’s okay once you get to know her.”  He wouldn’t say one bad word about his meal ticket to anyone, especially someone looking to replace her.  But he would toy with her.  “You interested in the job?”

She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and then smiled.  “I might be,” she said, pushing her elbows up on the bar.  She gazed into his dreamy green eyes, the color of US currency and took in his expensive cologne.  “You thinking about changing the scenery?”  Glancing down at his vintage Rolex, she guessed he must be rolling in dough.  Why else would Amber be with him?

He laughed at her question, considering his current circumstance. If only she knew how badly he wanted a change of fucking scenery, it might scare her. Only, he wasn’t interested in taking sand to the beach. 

She coiled back. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No,” he said, stopping his laugh long enough to put his hand over hers. “Laughing with you, because yes, I do want a change in scenery.  What can I say? You see right through me.”

“Or maybe I don’t see you at all?” she said seriously. 

He shook his head and sighed.  “Well, I do believe you are… dangerous.” And he knew that she was.  She was probably some pre-law, college girl working here to pay the bills with dreams of burning her bra and running for public office one day.  He had fallen for her type once.  Married her too.  That didn’t work out well. He had the divorce papers to prove it. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I’m dangerous,” she said, turning up her lips. “But I do believe in going after what I want.”

Leo
wanted
to kiss her right then and there. Her luscious glossy lips.  Her minty fresh breath.  Her natural skin, no sign of makeup.  Just fresh face and transparent honesty.  In fact, his could feel the ache rising up in his balls at just the idea of throwing her over the side of that bar and fucking her independent brain out right in front of Amber and that fucking idiot john.  

But Leo wasn’t a stupid man.  Amber was broke. The chipped nails, lackluster dead-ends in her hair, her mere presence in this place, alluded to the fact that she was a worker.  And he had no space in his life for workers, no matter how good they were.

“What’s wrong?  Are you silently debating it in your head?” she teased. “You can’t depend on the woman who only eats what you bring to the table,” she joked.  “Gotta have someone who brings the whole damn table.”

That snapped Leo back into reality.  His eyes grew dark, but he quickly hid his jaded inner monster.  “A man can’t eat a table, lovely.” 

Daisy’s body language suggested that she took that as a rejection. 

The alarm went off in Leo’s sick twisted head.  After all,
he knew women.

She was new to the club and green as grandma’s grip – the combination was good for club Intel, his second-string team and free drinks.  His face warmed like sun coming across a dark horizon.  Instantly the mood changed.  He was back to being the gentleman that southern women responded to.  “I’m always interested, Daisy, especially in a woman as
special
as you.” He made sure to use the word woman instead of girl.  Being as privy to bullshit as she was, she would have noticed that little slip.  “I mean, hell’s bells, even in this place, your light shines bright.  You’re different from these girls.  You’re going places.”

“Going to Duke University’s School of Law in a year, if I can just keep my head above water with the bills,” she said, allowing her own pride to expose the truth about her.  She wasn’t a bimbo. She wasn’t a slut.  She didn’t see how these women allowed themselves to fall so short of such a simple standard.

Bingo
, Leo thought to himself.  He knew he recognized the
bitch
trait.  When women had it, it was hard to cloak.  Trying not to blatantly patronizing her, he finally winked at her and rested his back against his bar seat, throwing one arm over the side.  “Soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew it.  I gotta admit, you’re tempting the hell out of me.  But my weakness is that I’m a one-woman-man.  Always have been.  But if I weren’t already with Amber, I’d be picking you up and carrying you out of here, right now.”  The lie oozed out of his mouth with such finesse that it sounded like pure sincerity. 

Foolishly, Daisy believed him. She took her rejection without offense, not realizing that she had just dodged a huge, life-changing bullet.  He was already with a woman, despite her infinite shortcomings – that was the reality of the situation.  “Well, you know where I am, when that doesn’t work out.” 

“Oh, I’m making a mental note,” he said, tapping the side of his head. 

The conversation had taken too long.  He looked back over at Amber, who was eyeing him now even as the old man behind her lost control in his pants, loudly gasping as he jerked against her backside.  Leo was surprised the john had lasted that long. 

“That’s my cue.  Looks like I better get back to work,” Daisy said, winking back at Leo before she went over to the other side of the bar to clean up.  

“Sounds like it’s closing time,” Leo said, watching Amber stand up and pass the old man a baby wipe.  Covertly, she took the large wad of money from him and kissed his cheek.  Now done with the woman, he patted her on the ass and rested back in his seat. 

Without missing a beat, she pounced in her stilettos over to him.  “What the fuck?” she said, sitting down in the seat beside him. 

“What the fuck what?” Leo asked innocently.

“Are you over here flirting with this bitch in my face?” Amber snarled over at Daisy.

Leo turned slowly to Amber, pulled her seat to him so that she was in between his legs and cupped her face in his large hands.   “Baby, she was just talking about how pretty you are.”  His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “Be nice, baby.  She’s just a young girl.  And…I think she’s got the hots for you.”